


Smutober 2017

by AurumCelest



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Bukkake, F/F, F/M, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-10 18:31:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12305136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AurumCelest/pseuds/AurumCelest
Summary: October isn't even a thing on Cybertron.Small ficlets based on Smutober prompts.





	1. Education [Riptide] [MtMtE]

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully I can do all 31 days. I'll be using two different lists for this, and throwing in a few words of my own.

Riptide hated learning.  A million download packs and limited amount of time will do that to a poor bot.  All that information compacted into such a small volume, and Riptide was never a learning bot to begin with, but right now he wished he had paid a little more attention.

  
“Riptide,” you murmur head tilt to one side as  you wait for him.  You were currently poised right above him, hands holding your weight as you hovered over his spike.

  
“Riptide?  I need an answer or else I’m going to leave,” and he feels the panic set in as  you give him an understanding smile.

  
“I don’t remember the question,” a play for more time as he frantically racked his mind for the answer. You furrow your eyebrows, it wasn’t that long ago you had asked he should remember it.

  
“It’s kind of hard to think when I see something as beautiful as you right in front of me,” a nervous chuckle as he tries to flatter his way out of this one, and you allow him to if your resigned sigh is anything to go by.

  
“What year did the First Cybertronian Civil War begin?”

  
Riptide looks up to the ceiling, then turns his vision to look at the wall, and finally back to you.

  
“Sssseeeeevvvvvvv-”  
You start moving away from his spike.  No, this is a bad thing.

  
“Eeeiiiiiigggg-”  
You move closer to his spike, to the point where the tip is already breaching your entrance.  Yes, good.

  
“-hhhtttt.”  
You nod your head encouragingly at him as you sit yourself further down his spike.  His fans are running now, cooling down his frame and he’s panting in exertion from trying not to buck his hip right into you.

  
“Eight what Riptide?”  You ask as you pause midway down his spike and he throws his head back with an irritated clang.

“Eight...million...BCE,” he finally puffs out as his servos rip the edge of his berth.  BCE is a human term, and you find it odd that he would use it to tell you Cybertronian time, but you let it slide.  The poor bot isn’t technically wrong you think as you slide the rest of the way down his spike, sitting yourself prettily on his hips.  Riptide lets out a moan and he lifts his head to look back at you with an excited gleam in his optics.

  
“Okay now, where did Nova Prime’s Ark disappeared to?  Answer this right and I’ll consider moving.”

  
And just like that Riptide moan turns instantly into a groan.  He really wishes he paid more attention to those damn download packs.


	2. Selfie [Nightbeat] [MtMtE]

Nightbeat loves a good mystery.  Any good mystery whether it be a murder, or who stole who’s ration, or even a good riddle will leave him happy.  Right now, however, he wasn’t happy.  No, right now he was confused because he was holding a  picture that was of you laid back on your berth with one leg crossed over the other but fingers curled up as though saying ‘Come here.’  
A flip to the back showed a small message.

 _Hurry up and find me Nightbeat  
_ _Or else someone might get to me before you do_

Confusion turned into determination.  Nightbeat loved a good mystery and he was holding one right now.  He set off, his destination?  Your habsuite.

 

* * *

 

There was another picture on your berth when Nightbeat finally got there.  This time it was you, walking away from the camera but with your head turned back as you looked directly into it.  A smirk on your face.  On the back:

_You thought I would make it easy on you?_

Nightbeat let out a huff.  From the color of the wall and the missing screw on the fifth panel on the floor he knew exactly which hallway you were walking down.  The real question was, where was this going?

 

* * *

 

The next picture gave him even more questions, but it answered one.  He knew where this was going now because Nightbeat is a smart bot, and any smart bot would know that anyone with their legs spread wide open with two fingers inside themselves would want for a very particular type of attention.  That is what you were currently doing in the next picture that Nightbeat found, shoved underneath the floor panelling with the missing screw.  Turning around the picture he read:

 _Can’t wait for you to fill me up~_  

The questions that Nightbeat now had was twofold:

  1. What would he do to you when he got to you?
  2. How fast could he make back to his habsuite, to his berth that you were laying on in the picture.



 

* * *

 

How fast could he make it back to his habsuite?  Not fast enough because you weren’t there.  

Nightbeat was in his habsuite, and you weren’t there.  The urge to pull a Prowl and flip a table was almost overwhelming, but that would a waste of time.  Time he could be using to find you.  

Nightbeat quickly scanned the area.  Nothing was different.  Everything was exactly where he left it, which meant that you didn’t leave a clue this time.  The only thing that even suggested that you were here was a small puddle on his berth.  He swiped at it with two fingers and shoved it into his mouth.  His glossa ran his own digit as he savored the flavor.  Another question answered.  What was he going to do when he got to you?  Eat you out because damn, he loved the taste of you and its been too long since he’s gotten a mouthful.  Now the next question was where were you.  

  
Nightbeat ponders this thought as he pulls his digits out of his mouth with a pop.  A few moment later he walks out of his habsuite was a smirk as he changes into his alt mode.  You weren’t getting away this time, as he zooms down the hallway back towards your habsuite.

 

* * *

 

“You’ve given me a good mystery,” he says as he enters your habsuite.  You were position exactly like your last photo, legs spread wide with two fingers inside you as you tried to work yourself to climax.  Nightbeat gently grabs your hand and pulls it away from yourself as he leans down.

  
“And for that you deserve a nice reward, however, I do have one more question,”  He spreads your legs wider apart so he can fit inbetween them, then he slowly runs his glossa over you going from the bottom to the top, getting a mouthful of your essence and making sure nothing is wasted.  He lets out a shuddering moan as he locks gazes with you.

  
“How the frag did you get into my habsuite?”


	3. Travel [Wheeljack] [TFP]

“I love watching you fight."

“Oh yeah?  Does it turn you on, sweetspark?” Wheeljack asks as he puts away his twin blades, putting on an extra flourish for your benefit as he does so.

 

The two of you (it was suppose to be one but Wheeljack had casually asked if you wanted to come along and you were in the driver seat before he even finished his offer) were on a short patrol run for some energon when you had spotted some Vehicon.  You pointed them out to Wheeljack and he plopped you on the closest rock to the fight (front row seat he said as the Vehicon started firing at him) before he run into the fray, face plate sliding into place and a wink in your direction.

 

You certainly weren’t lying when you said you loved to watch him fight.  It was like watching an artist in his element as he swung one of his blade down against a Vehicon, instantly taking them out of the fight.  Again and again he swings his blade and each time another one of his enemy would fall.  Every now and again he would look back at you, and you can feel the smirk on his face even though his mouth was covered.  He was always so aggressive in battle.  Aggressive and confident to the point of being overly cocky.  It made you rub your legs together just thinking about it.  You knew he was just the same in the berth.

 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Wheeljack responds with a smirk as he begins to take a step towards you.  One of his servos is already rubbing at his interface panel as his smirk turns more lascivious and he had the same look in his optics as he does in battle.  Aggressive and cocky, but now with a layer of lust over it all.

 

“Wheeljack come in,” Ratchet voice on the commline pulls a groan out of Wheeljack and puts a stop to his step.  Wheeljack hesitates a moment, glaring off into the distances as he considers not answer before Ratchet makes the choice for him.

“Wheeljack I know you’re there.  The space bridge is down, so we need you to travel back on foot ASAP.  Ultra Magnus wants to brief the team on the next mission.”

 

Wheeljack gives you a look, as though asking what he should do and you were flattered that he would take your opinion into consideration.  Two choices stand before you now: stay and have fun or be responsible and go back.  Do what you want to do or do what you should do.  Sexy time or mission time.

 

You sigh and jump off the rock your were sitting on.  As fun as the former would be, you are still in the middle of war and people are depending on you.  Not to be the time to be slacking off and not to mention if Wheeljack didn’t respond, no doubt Ratchet would be trying to call him every minute.  Nothing ruins a mood faster than Ratchet grumbling about disrespect and how no one listens to him.

 

Wheeljack slumps his shoulder when he sees you jump off the rock and he puts a servo to his comm line to confirm his orders.  You’ve never seen him so put out before, he didn’t even sass Ratchet or make a comment about Ultra Magnus shoulders.  He throws on a smile for you though despite his disappointment.

 

“Looks like the fun will have to wait for next time sweetspark.”  

“Does it?” You give him a devious smile, “How fast can you get us back to base?”

* * *

 

And that how Wheeljack found himself speeding down an empty highway at 150 mph.  This would seem ordinary for him except for the fact that you were currently in the driver seat, naked from the bottom down, and trying to bring yourself to orgasm with your fingers.  Either than that, totally ordinary for him.

 

As for you, it was an experience.  Speeding down the road  at 150 mph and feeling Wheeljack’s engine purring as he pushes himself to go faster.  It was...pretty arousing.  Having all that power and speed underneath you, but also knowing that you were safe.  There was no way Wheeljack would let anything happen to you, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t skirt the line as close as he could get to get a rile out of you and a rile he did get when you called him out on choosing the bumpiest path he could find.  Every rock he rolled over would cause your finger to scrape inside you, or a dip that he didn’t bother to slow down for would cause you to push deeper inside yourself.  You weren’t even sure what game you two were playing anymore, but you knew one thing for sure.  He would not hesitate to drive right into base with you fingers deep in yourself.

 

“You should take your sweet time.  Enjoy the moment.  Look at the scenery.  Did you see that patch of dirt back there?”

“Shut up Wheeljack.  As if you wouldn't drive right into base with me half naked in you.”

“Oh sweetspark, I would never do that to you,” even as he said that you could feel him slowing down.  Looking at the speedometer confirmed that he was dropping his speed down to 125 mph than to 100 mph.  You were about to make a comment on how weirdly considerate he was being and then you saw it.  The reason why he was slowing down.

 

A bus.

 

The ass.  He’s planning on slowing down next to the bus, and everyone riding in it will be able to see you knuckles deep in yourself.  He wouldn’t even care.  Hell he’d probably get off on it.

 

“Fuck you Wheeljack.”

“Is that a bribe?  I’ll take it if it is.”

 

You let out a huff and lean forward in the seat, never once taking stopping your finger’s movement.  Even if you tried, Wheeljack would just speed up until he was next to the bus and then slow down again before you could pull your pants back on.  Knowing that you did the only thing you could think of to get him to pass the bus.  You ran your tongue over the Autobot crest situated in the middle of his steering wheel.

 

Wheeljack’s engine stuttered as his voice came over the radio, hot and heavy.

“Frag sweetspark, keep doing that and I’ll have to pull over.”

Just for that comment you do it again, throwing in a groan at the end as you push deeper inside yourself.

 

Wheeljack lets out a laugh and speeds up past the bus.  You let out a sigh of relief as you lean back again, spreading your legs as you work in earnest to get off.  A quick check at the clock and the surrounding tells you that you’ll be back at base in about 10 minutes at the speed he’s going which should be just enough time.

 

“Okay sweetspark I see how it is,” he manages out as he pushes back towards 150 mph and then higher towards 200 mph, “I’ll give you a real ride when we get back to base.”


	4. Bukkake [Ratchet] [Ambulon] [First Aid] [MtMtE]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to figure out whether to stick with using hands or servos when writing. I always end up mixing the two.

It had started off as a joke.  

 

It was finally quiet in the med bay.  All of three of the medibots were in their corners, but after the rush of injured mechs after a game of grenade tag gone wrong, everyone was still highly strung and stressed out.  

 

Ambulon was picking at his chipping paint, First Aid had his head cradle in his arm, and Ratchet was gripping his pen so hard you could see a crack in it as it held on for dear life.  Any moment now a fight was going to break out between the three of them for some stupid reason (last time it was Ambulon who yelled at First Aid to quiet his tapping) and Ratchet was going to storm off, Ambulon would go hide and binge eat, and First Aid would probably go and hit his head against a nice solid wall or something.

 

And then there was you.  Sitting on one of the med berth, swinging your legs back and forth watching this all go down as you always do.  The air was tense, and you knew it would explode, it always did and then it would be days before everything went back to normal.  Every single time like clockwork.  

 

Ambulon pulls off another paint chip.

First Aid lets out another sigh.

Ratchet grips his pen a little harder.

You open your big stupid mouth.

 

“You all look like you need a good wank,” you joked.  You needed to distract them somehow and so you said the first thing that entered your mind.

 

And you thought it was tense before.  At least they were doing stuff, now they all had stopped moving simultaneously.

“Just you know, a nice good jerking off,” you continued because there was no taking back the previous comment, you know they all heard you loud and clear.

 

Slowly all three of them turned to look at you.

 

“What,” First Aid deadpanned.

“Let go of all that tension.  You’ll probably feel better afterward.”

“Have you been hit in the head,” Ambulon gave you an incredulous stare.

“I’m fine.  I just think it would be a good idea...”

“And how do you propose we go about doing this,” Ratchet waved his servo vaguely in the air, “Draw sticks and take turns in the supply room or we all go back to our habsuite and leave the med bay totally unattended?”

 

You bristled at the sarcasm in Ratchet’s voice, you were just joking around but they all seemed to be taking you seriously.

 

“You could all just do it here,” you shot back at Ratchet.

“And look at each other?”  First Aid said which was followed by a beat as everyone imagined that for a moment.

“What a horrible image,” Ambulon cringed and shook his head as though to clear the thought.

 

Throughout the whole affair Ratchet had become silent eerily silent.  Usually if he thought an idea was stupid he would be the first to voice his disapproval either through biting sarcasm or a mere grunt.  This then though, when you turned to look at him, he was regarding you with a thoughtful look as though he was actually considering the idea.

 

“There’s another one here we could look at…” he begins, and suddenly the look in his optics makes sense.

 

The other two follow his look and landed on you.

 

“W-what?” You can feel your face heat up with all three of their gazes focused on you.

 

“It was your idea.”

“So you should help us.”

“And you’re very nice to look at…”

 

What the hell.  It was just a joke, but...if they were all down for it.  It would be better than them getting mad at each other and, to be honest, all three of them were striking bots in their own ways.  You would be lying to yourself if you said you’ve never thought about them on some particularly lonely nights.

 

Just like that the three medibot had you kneeling on the ground, the berth was far too high up not to mention getting transfluid on it would probably not be good.  They laid down a towel for you kneel on, the softest material they could find so it wouldn’t hurt your knees, and then they were around you.  Interface open, spike pressurized, valve leaking.  Funny, they seemed so resistant before but now they were raring to go.

 

You’d never thought you’d be in this situation.  Watching Ratchet as he ran a servo over his spike, giving it a twist at the end.  He lets out a groan when he sees you watching the path his servo takes, mouth slightly agape as you do so.

 

“You should close your mouth,” he huffs out as he starts pumping his spike in earnest.  You drag your eyes from spike as you look up at him with a wide smile on your face.

“Or you’ll put something in it?” you sassed back, the ridiculous of the situation making you throw any reservation you would have had into the wind.

 

Ratchet lets out a hiss as he tilts his head back and squeezes around the base of his spike, but he never takes his gaze off of you.  He eyes your mouth a moment, as though considering it.

“You may have a big mouth, but I doubt you’ll be able to take all of me.”

 

Before you can respond back, First Aid interjects with a “Hey!”

You turn to look at him, and give him a cheeky smile.

 

“Don’t give him all your attention, the rest of us are here too.”  He sounded a bit jealous and you felt a bit guilty.  It wouldn’t be fair to focus all your attention to one them, and you do your best to equally divide it but it's kind of hard when there’s three of them.

“Sorry, it’s just so fun to sass Ratchet.”  An indignant huff from Ratchet, but you ignore it.

 

“I’d much rather take your spike though,” and you could because First Aid was currently playing with his valve leaving his spike free for you to take into your mouth if you so pleased.  Two fingers were pushing in and out of his valve, making the lewdest noise you’ve ever heard.

“As a matter of fact I could probably take you all the down my throat,”  and that causes First Aid to mumble out something incoherent as he grabs onto his spike with a free servo.  

 

“Might be a tight fit though…”  and now he’s really going at it.  Legs brace apart as his leans over slightly, one servo pumping furiously at his spike and the other still in between his legs.  You don’t see what happens next though because a groan from your other side catches your attention and you turn to settle your gaze onto Ambulon.

 

“Ambulon, I hope you didn’t think I forgot about you.  How could I?  You’re so beautiful right now,” and he was.  Like First Aid he was playing with his valve, but unlike First Aid, Ambulon was circling his anterior node only rather than pushing inside.  At your comment he pressed harder on the node, causing his vents to take in more air to cool his overheating frame.  

 

“I’d love to eat you out.  You’d look so beautiful on your back, me in between your legs,” and Ambulon gives you such a beautiful smile it makes you pause in surprise.

 

“As lovely as that sounds, I’d much rather have our position be reversed.  That’s how I’ve always imagined it,” and that sends a shiver of heat down to your groin as the impact of the statement hits you.  How he’s always imagined it?  He’s been thinking of you in that way and you’ve never known.

 

You’re about to take him up on his offer when, yet again your sentence gets cuts off when you hear a choke cry from First Aid.

 

You turn just in time to see him overload, transfluid from his valve running down his fingers while his spike spurts out enough transfluid to hit your body, covering a good portion of it.  You take one look at your hand, noting that some transfluid got it, before getting a wicked idea and turning your attention to Ratchet.

 

He gives you a suspicious look, and you give him a sultry look never breaking eye contact as you take your hand closer to your mouth so you can lick off First Aid’s transfluid.  That’s just enough to get Ratchet to grip the berth he’s been leaning against harder as he overloads next.  You close your eyes and open your mouth to take it in as it hits your face.

 

Finally you turn to look at Ambulon, and you give him a sweet smile.  You must have been a sight, covered to his companions transfluid.  Your top half covered in First Aid’s while your mouth is still dripping with Ratchet’s.  You don’t even have to do or say anything as he overloads onto his fingers.

 

The silence afterward is calming.  All three bots have their optics offlined as they try to regain themselves after the whole ordeal, and you can’t help but notice how relax their posture is.  You are still kneeling on the floor looking down at yourself and the mess around you.

 

“So, that was a good idea right?”  You ask as you look up at Ratchet.  He gives a low chuckle, a very rare thing to hear, as he simply nods his head in agreement.

“We should do it again whenever you are all stressed out,” you point out hopefully.

“Why only when we’re stressed?  We should make this a monthly thing.”  First Aid chimes in cheerfully.

“It seems pretty quiet...we could go for another round,” Ambulon adds on as he wraps a servo around his spike.  You give him a surprised look, and then look at the other two bots when you hear them moving to either grip their spike or trace their valve.

“Oh...oh, okay.  Then let’s make it a game.  First one to overload loses~”  You laugh as you settle back down, focusing your look onto Ratchet again.


	5. Club [Swerve] [MtMtE]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a bunch of prompts rough drafted, I just need to actually go in and edit them. For sure I'll have 31 chapters up.

The Lost Light crew had disembark at a nearby planet, one of the few that allowed both organic and mechanical to interact.  Rodimus had then called for a quick (it never was) surface leave.  Officially it was in order to restock, unofficially it was to party.  

Swerve was excited.  It had been a while since he was given a chance to walk around a new planet.  Most of the time only a small group of bots were allowed to go, and he was never allowed to go.  This time though only a small skeleton crew would be on the ship to watch over it and everyone else was free to explore as they will.

Swerve was trying to lock up his bar as fast as he could.  It was a few minutes until the ship would land, and he wanted to talk to Skids or Tailgate to see what hijinks they could get into.  He turned the key in the lock, went into his alt mode, and drove as fast as he could.  He could feel the ship starting to land, and he knew the instant they landed the door would open and everyone would be out.  He didn’t want to make his friends wait for him, so he pushed his engine as hard as he could.

There was no one there.  Well there were a few stragglers, but no one that he could call friend were there.  It seems as though the instant the ship had landed and the doors had open, everyone had dispersed, pairing up and going off before Swerve could ask anyone to hang with him.  

Spark broken but unsurprised he had just wandered from vendor to vendor, listless and alone, until he ended up at the club.  Even if he was alone, at least he could pretend he belong to one of many groups of people who were hanging out with their friends talking and enjoying themselves.  A mistake on his part, he simply felt even more alone now with no one to talk to in a room full of people.

Three drinks in and Swerve was slightly buzzed.  It felt...good if somewhat pathetic.  At least he didn’t have to think about things when he was drunk off his aft.  

“Excuse me.”  
No need to worry about his bar.  
“Ummm…”  
So what if he missed the launching, no one would remember him anyways.  
“Hey!”  
They’d probably celebrate.  
“HEY!”

“What?”  Swerve snapped back.  It was one of the workers of the bar who was in charge of ferrying around drinks.  Normally we would feel bad, he knows what’s it's like to work at a bar, but they interrupted his one man pity party.

Nevertheless, Swerve mumbles out an apology before looking at away, but the clink of glass hitting the table made him look up again.  A cup of energon, the really good stuff by the looks of it, was put down next to him by the server.

“Person over there, in the seat by the pink pillar, bought this for you,” the server said in response to the questioning look on Swerve’s face, “Said they would love to have a drink with you and the pleasure of your company.”

Swerve turned to look, and the server took that as a cue to leave.  Swerve was already in disbelief that someone would even buy him a drink, but when he turned to see who it was he was sure that a prank was being played on him.  There was no way anyone that good looking would buy him a drink, much less invite him over.  Pleasure of his company, as if.  Swerve let out a frown and turned to look back at his own drink, ignoring the one that was sent, even more depressed than before.

* * *

The smile fell from your face as you saw the cute mech give you a frown before turning back to his drink.

You tilt your head to the side wondering what you did wrong.  Maybe he just wanted to be left alone, but then he looked so depressed earlier just sitting there alone?  Then again he did come in alone, but most people didn't come to the club to be alone and depress.  The question was bugging you, and you felt kinda bad for him.  Maybe he just wanted someone to talk to.  Making up your mind, you got up from your seat and made your way over to him.  You'd ask him what was wrong, and if he didn't want to talk about it or he made it clear he didn't want your company you'd leave him alone.

“Hello,” you slid onto the seat right besides him, another smile plastered on your face.  He stiffen beside you.

  
“What do you want?” He grumbled out avoiding looking at you in the face.

  
“Well,” you traced a finger around the rim of the drink that you bought him, “I just wanted to talk.  Get to know you better.”

  
“Don't bother.  There’s nothing interesting about me.  I just want to be left alone,” he shrunk in on himself and even though you told yourself that you would leave him alone if he didn't want to talk, you just had to try a little bit harder, just to make sure.

  
“Whether you're interesting or not is for me to decide, but if you don't want to talk that's okay,” you give a small shrug, “If you don’t mind,though, will you listen to me talk?  I honestly want to talk to you.  It seems like you have a lot of neat stories to tell,” you see him sneak a peek at you before averting his eyes again, this time with a light red blush covering his cheeks, and you take that as a cue to continue.  He didn’t tell you to go away after all.

 

So you give him your name, and he mumbles out his own, then you start rambling about anything that crosses your mind.  Your life, the places you've been, the people you've met, and in this way you slowly you draw him into your conversation.  

He eventually tells you about the ship he’s on, the quests he`s been on, his favorite sitcoms.  At first you thought he was a shy quiet bot but once he started feeling more comfortable he talked nonstop.  He’s definitely blushing now too, and still avoiding look at you, but his mouth doesn't stop moving as he tells you everything.  

An hour in and he’s much happier now, optics bright,mouth curved up in a smile, hands gesturing around as he tells you about the Lost Light.  Occasionally he would look over to you, before blushing, and averting his look again.  It’s really cute.  Cute enough that you want to give him a peck on the cheek.

“Hey, can I give you a kiss?”  
“And then Inferno sat on- What!?”  
“A kiss?  A small peck on the cheeks?”

He’s openingly staring at you, mouth agape, as you give him a sheepish smile and a shrug.

“You’re really cute.”  
He still hasn’t said anything.  
“I think it would be nice.”  
Still nothing from his end.  
“Uhhh,” you wave your hand in front of his face, “Are you okay?  I mean you can totally say no, I won’t think any less of you.”  
“I-ah-No.  I just,” again he avert his look from yours, “No one has ever asked for that, but I-I guess?”

 

Then he’s looking at you again as you slowly move closer to him, just in case he decides to change his mind.  He doesn’t say a word as you press a small chaste kiss to his warm cheeks.

You move back a bit, close enough that you can still feel the heat coming off his frame but far enough that you’re not touching him.  The two of you spend a few moments staring at each other and then...

 

And then…

 

He’s kissing you, and you’re kissing him back.  He pulls you closer, you grab his face, he pulls back and tells you people are watching, so you grab his hand and pull him with you.

From the bar, across the dancefloor, twisting through the corridors, until you find a somewhat empty room.  

And then he`s touching you again, desperate to feel every part of you as he runs his hands from your face to your waist, arms encircling you as he pulls you closer.  For your part, you're pressing your lips everywhere, pulling back for a second to his confusion to ask a simple but important question.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

He doesn’t even hesitate as he pulls you in closer, and you follow his lead.  You gently push him against a wall, mouth attacking the cabling at his neck, giving him small nips that has his fans blasting.  

Swerve has his head nuzzled against your neck and you can feel as he openingly pants against you.  All throughout he’s mumbling short sweet phrases and random gibberish as he gets overwhelmed by your attention.

There’s not much you can do here, as isolated as it may be you both still are in a public place, but with your body mostly covering his you can at least do this.

 

“Swerve~” you all but purr into his audial as you run your hand across his interface panel.

Swerve lets out a moan as he pushes his hips towards your hand, causing you to rub against it harder.

His interface panel slides back, allowing his spike to pressurize into your hand.

“Ohh Swerve~ Swervey~” You pull your head back from his neck to look at him and what a sight he is.  Mouth opened and panting, optics dimmed, face flushed red.  When he notices you looking, a wide goofy smile appears.

“Thank you, thank you so much.  This is so amazing, I never would have thought-” his hands are fumbling with your lower half, and then you hear clinking before his fingers are inside of you.  

It's awkward at first, getting accustomed to each other, figuring out what feels good and what doesn’t.  Between Swerve’s rambling and your gentle encouragement, you both find a way to make each other feel good.  Your hand is wrapped around his spike and one of his hand is wrapped over it, showing you how fast or slow he likes it.  The fingers of his other hand is inside of you, your free hand wrapped around his wrist as you guide him to your sweet spot.

Swerve curls his finger and he scrapes against something that almost makes your leg buckle.  You see him give a self-satisfied smirk, and in retaliation you squeeze his spike slightly harder as you give his spike a half twist at the tip.

“Slag, not fair,” he huffs out, but he’s smile only grows wider.  Both of you are so close, just a little bit more.  Swerve places his lips on yours again and you give his bottom lip a little nip and that is just enough for him to overload all over your hand.  This in turn causes you to climax around his fingers.

 

You both lean against each other, basking in the afterglow.

“I love you,” Swerve whispers, so low you think maybe he doesn’t want you to hear it.

You pause a bit, before nuzzling against his neck.

“I love you too,” and you place a small chaste kiss against his warm cheek.


End file.
